


Mantled

by Davechicken



Series: Kylux - Fluff & Angst [190]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 07:46:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10080002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Hux, and Kylo's mask.





	

They’re relaxing one night, letting their food settle, and the stresses of the day wear off, when Kylo sees Hux’s eyes lingering over his mask. They slip there, hold for a second, and then drift away. Subtle, barely noticeable interest.

Hux doesn’t ask him many questions, not about his life, his beliefs, his abilities, his past, or his goals. They die on his tongue, unspoken, and Kylo knows they’re gnawing away in his gut. Either Hux doesn’t want to offend him, or doesn’t want Kylo to feel uncomfortable by being asked, but either way the questions hang around him like droplets of water building momentum, too afraid to fall.

“You know you can ask,” he says, when the pressure of curiosity makes the air too thick to breathe comfortably.  


“Hmmm?”  


“You want to ask me things. You can; I can always not answer.”  


“It’s nothing, I just…” Hux wars with himself a moment, and his jaw clenches. “What’s it like to wear, all day, every day?”  


“Warm. Heavy. You get used to it, but it does restrict your vision and movement a little. It’s unsettling to others, not seeing your eyes, so you feel their discomfort.”  


“Then why do it?”  


“…it’s… who the Leader wants me to be,” Kylo replies, which is mostly true. There are other reasons, but the prime - unshakeable one - is Snoke. “It’s who Kylo Ren is.”  


“But someone else could wear your mask, and be you.” Hux’s nose wrinkles. “If you’re never seen out of it.”  


Yes. Kylo’s had that thought, too. If he was ever unfaithful, or not strong enough… the Leader could put his mantle on another’s shoulders, and few would be any the wiser. He isn’t ‘himself’, he’s a mask, a figurehead, an idea.

“You could do it,” he tells the older man.  


“Don’t be stupid, Kylo. I don’t have the Force.”  


“There’s ways around that…” He picks the mask up, and floats it closer to him. “Try it. See the world as I see it.”  


The mask drops into Hux’s lap, and the man squirms. He’s interested, but also disgusted. Kylo isn’t quite sure how he feels about that reaction. Hux has always wanted him unmasked in person, other than the times they steal five minutes in private, and fuck quick and brutal, or jerk each other to a temporary cessation of hostilities. 

The first time he’d fucked Hux with the mask on, the General had been a mess of revulsion and lust. After all, for years it had been Kylo’s only face. The next time, Hux had pushed his robes up and fucked _him_ instead, and the harsh sounds of his moans through the vocoder had gotten Kylo so hard, so fast, that they’d barely had time to start before he’d been finished. 

Hux had only once jerked off over his mask, though he’d felt the fantasies at times, in public. The crossing of legs, the shuffling in his seat. Hux was repelled by - and attracted to - his mask, in seemingly equal measures.

His fingers chase the lines of the brow, and he picks it up to look inside. Kylo says nothing, but watches as he slides it on.

There’s an awkward moment when Hux clips the mouth-plate down, and his features are obscured. Kylo _knows_ it’s not ‘him’, but in a way it is? This face - black, immobile, unforgiving - is the one the world sees Kylo himself as. It’s powerful, deadly, strong. It’s merciless and certain, and impossible to soften. 

It’s all those things he needs to be, and the ballast to his own, shaky sense of self. It’s the filler that props up his empty holes, and it’s the him he thinks the galaxy needs. An idealised self, or a self made to navigate the unforgiving realities of life. 

“How do you _see_ in this?” Hux asks.  


“The controls are accessed by looking to one side, and they’ll find your eyes and display after that. I also use the Force.”  


Hux isn’t Hux, now. His voice is rougher, mechanical. Kylo finds himself oddly attracted to it. It’s Hux with _extra_ , Hux with even more power. It’s almost masturbatory, the way he feels. A trickle of interest, a stirring deep in his gut.

And without his mask - staring into eyes that can see his, but which _he_ can’t see - he feels weaker, and the thrill of that is unusual and keen. Tables turned, their equilibrium ruined.

“It’s ridiculous,” Hux says, and his hands come up to remove it. “Maybe in battle, but–”  


“…keep it on?” Kylo pleads.  


“Not on your life,” Hux snaps, and plucks it off. “I don’t need it, and you don’t need it. Fine, when you’re fighting, but–”  


“I have to be ready to fight at all times,” Kylo reminds him. “Like your troopers. I can’t be seen to be less powerful. Except here.”  


Here, with Hux, where he can be vulnerable and weak. Where he can let his face go slack, or rub at an itch on his nose. Where he’s a person, not a concept.

“…I… see. But I still don’t like it,” Hux declares, and places it back where it came from.   


There’s an odd sense of loss, but Kylo understands. Hux doesn’t need the crutch, it’s Kylo who is incomplete as a person. On Hux, it enhances. On Kylo, it completes.

He’s still going to have his own fantasies, though. Thoughts of darker gloves on his hips, and the harsh sounds of Hux’s breathing made more cruel, more loud. Maybe he can convince him to try it, just once. 

After all, the mask isn’t him. He simply tries to fill it up. Who _he_ is, is this, and being taken by what he wishes he could be… now that’s an image he’ll fight to shake.


End file.
